


Lust for life

by onotherflights



Series: Inspired by a song [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Comeplay, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, I tried to write pwp but love got in the way what else is new, M/M, Masturbation, Otabek is generally fond, Power Play, Rimming, Smut, Voyeurism, lap dance, yuri wears knee socks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:57:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onotherflights/pseuds/onotherflights
Summary: My boyfriend’s back and he’s cooler than ever . . . There's no stopping now, green lights forever.He was thankful for the added warmth as the wind whipped past him when they were on the bike, Yuri’s arms wound securely around Otabek’s waist. They sped through the center of town, the salty mist of the sea air following parallel to them. Yuri watched the line of the ocean as the engine hummed underneath him, and he could almost close his eyes and fall asleep, right then on a motorcycle going 112 kph. He just always felt safe whenever his arms were around Otabek, whether they were going home (wherever that was for the night), or just going to the next stop.Before he had met Otabek, he never realized feeling safe and feeling free felt so similar.





	Lust for life

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, we meet again friends. Will I ever post consistently? Will I ever finish a series I want to finish? Will I ever have less that 10 WIPs at a time? Stay tuned to find out. 
> 
> In more important news, I started writing this when "lust for life" by Lana del Rey and The Weeknd was released and it was inspired by that and Lana's newer songs in general. If you haven't heard them yet... wyd??. 
> 
> Side note: I apologize in advance for the tooth-rotting gush at the end. Ya girl is in a (lonely for a soulmate) mood.

_There's nobody here_  
_Just us together_  
_Keepin' me hot_  
_Like July forever_

  
Yuuri could feel the bass in his pulse.

When the music was this loud and the air so thick, it was easy to forget where he was, who he was. He let his head move side to side, eyes blissfully closed as his hips swiveled in time with the beat of whatever song was pounding through the speakers. He didn't know a word of the generic English pop songs they were playing, but he didn't care. He was lost in the movement and the heat, the edge of his hairline damp with sweat when he ran his fingers through it. He was three vodka sodas in, and he could swear he had a shot of fireball at some point. It's not enough to get him sloppy, but it's more than enough for him to lose focus on how his body is moving. He didn't even feel the weight of anyone’s eyes on him, he's just dancing. The only thing that keeps him anchored is the familiar slide of fingers against the skin of his hip, exposed from under his shirt when he moves.

He bit his lip against a smirk, keeping his back arched as his hips were pushed back. His backside rubbed against the front of the man behind him, and he grinded back teasingly.

When he lifted his hair away from his neck, holding it up as he kept moving, he wasn't expecting to get any relief from the heat. It was too far into the night, everyone on the floor was a hot mess, himself included. He didn't expect the kiss placed gently on the nape of his neck, followed by the wet slide of a tongue against his skin, capturing the salty sweat. It was something so intimate to do in public, like no one was watching them. It stopped at the back of his ear, a playful nip of teeth on the shell of his ear before a gruff demand was heard in spite of the music.

“Turn around, Yura.”

When he did as he was told, their bodies slotted back together like puzzle pieces. He only had a few moments to take it in, a flash of hard-set amber eyes in the glow of a strobe light. Before he could say anything over the throb of the music, the taste of cinnamon whisky was on his tongue in the shape of a filthy kiss. His fingers abandoned the longer strands of his own hair in favor of soft, shaved hair that gave way to damp tresses whenever his fingers creeped up.

Yuri rocked against this body, becoming even more intoxicated with the familiar scent of him that was mixed with his sweat. They kissed that way, a dirty and wet slide of tongues that was far too intimate for the setting. Yuri was getting hard just from that, combined with the fact it was the first time he'd been able to be kissed like that in months.

As if he could sense the growing restlessness, the eager lover pulled away, Yuri craning his neck to whisper in his ear.

“Your place or mine, Beka?”

It was a running private joke between the two of them, and it made Otabek Altin show his teeth in a rare laugh every time. Tonight was no exception, and he leaned down to answer Yuri, lips against the shell of his ear again so that he could hear over the noise.

“Our room.”

The truth was, in the year and half they'd been dating, there was only a handful of times where the inside joke was actually applicable. Usually when they were together, they weren't in their home countries. They spent their nights together in hotel beds, or rented houses when they expected to stay a while. Even when they didn't need to travel, they both wanted to. It was a divine right to return to all the places they'd been to before for competitions, but during off-season time they could really be there. Having a home or a designated place was subjective. If home was where the heart is, then it was the feeling Yuri got when Otabek was inside of him, his chest tightening up whenever he heard a breathless praise planted into his skin.

Yuri intertwined his fingers with Otabek’s and pushed through the crowd of bodies, suddenly feeling like all of these faceless beings were invading his home.

 

  
_My boyfriend’s back and he’s cooler than ever . . . There's no stopping now, green lights forever._

Once they were outside, the night air sent a comforting and familiar blast of chill over them, cooling the sweat from the club and causing Otabek to place his leather jacket around Yuri’s shoulders. He didn't protest anymore, just slid his arms into the sleeves and let the ends cover his hands. It wasn't cold enough for a jacket, not in Brighton in May. Still, Yuri raised the collar of the jacket and hid his nose under it when Otabek wasn't looking, reveling in the smell of bleu de Chanel and something underneath that was just familiar.

He was thankful for the added warmth as the wind whipped past him when they were on the bike, Yuri’s arms wound securely around Otabek’s waist. They sped through the center of town, the salty mist of the sea air following parallel to them. Yuri watched the line of the ocean as the engine hummed underneath him, and he could almost close his eyes and fall asleep, right then on a motorcycle going 112 kph. He just always felt safe whenever his arms were around Otabek, whether they were going home (wherever that was for the night), or just going to the next stop.

Before he had met Otabek, he never realized feeling safe and feeling free felt so similar.

 

_  
Take off all your clothes. . . And a lust for life, and a lust for life. Keeps us alive, keeps us alive._

  
“Sit down on the bed, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Otabek rolled his eyes but sits on the edge of the bed dutifully, taking off his riding gloves as he watches the natural sway of Yuri’s hips.

“Haven't you teased me enough tonight, Yura?”

As Yuri kicks his boots off, he sees the white knee socks he's wearing underneath, and smirks to himself. He had started his provocation early in the night, hours before the club, when they were at dinner with a few of Otabek’s DJ friends.

Yuri was bored, completely lost in the conversation so he had to entertain himself some way. It wasn't his fault that his foot slipped so easily out of his boot and fit between his boyfriend’s thighs under the table. The way Otabek blushed when Yuri rubbed against his crotch was completely intentional, though.

Otabek was patient, always. Maybe it was because he secretly got off on the teasing, the edging. Yuri would work him up and then leave him waiting until the very end of the night. He was never one to pull Yuri into the bathroom or into a dark corner, he would rather wait it out. The reward was always worth it.

Yuri walked over to the dresser that sat across from the bed. When they'd rented the house online, Yuri had seen a record player in the bedroom and had been secretly plotting ever since. He had to pay Yuuri Katsuki a small fee and a large chunk of mental scarring for him to teach Yuri what he was about to do.

Ignoring the way his heart was beating slightly faster, Yuri distracted himself with selecting a record from the stack the owner had beside the player. The song started with the familiar rev of a motorcycle engine, and Yuri smirked at his perfect selection.

Once the record was on, he turned around and slid his hands down his chest, fingers gently curling around the hem of his shirt. He slowly pulled it up, revealing inch by inch of his pale skin. He let the fabric fall to the ground. His hands went down to the front of his jeans, and he had the courage to look up at Otabek. He was watching his every move, brown eyes following his hands as they pushed his jeans down his thighs, doing exactly what the song said.

He stood there, only wearing his tiny black boxer shorts and white knee socks.

 _Slowly, one foot at a time_. He reminded himself mentally. He remembered practicing this walk across the long dance room, watching himself in the mirror the whole time. Somehow, it was less embarrassing now than it was then, probably because it was Otabek watching him. Even if he looked silly sauntering towards the bed like a cat, he knew Otabek wouldn't laugh. He was kind of into that sort of thing, after all.

He pointed his toes, letting one leg cross over the other, and then brought his heel down to meet the floor. Slow, deliberate, his steps on time with the pacing of the lyrics. He repeated the motion, slowly making his way across the room to Otabek. When he was right in front of him, he bent down and let his flat palms rest on Otabek’s knees, his lips lingering just inches out of reach.

He pushed Otabek's knees apart so that he could fit in between them. Brown eyes were still hyper-focused on his every move, watching in half-lidded curiosity.

“What’s this, котенок?”

Yuri crouched down by resting on his heels, looking up at Otabek through doe-eyed lashes.

“A treat.”

Otabek reached out to brush his thumb over his pale cheek, Yuri leaning into the touch. He could still feel his heart beating ever faster with the anticipation. He was always like this after it had been a while. The feeling of borrowing and exchanging, the power and control, it was always a mystery, a thrill. There was always a surprise.

Following the rhythm of the music, Yuri stood back up slowly and turned around. This was the part he was most nervous about. It looked good in the mirror, but he had no idea how it would feel. It wasn’t like he was going to take his dance lessons with Yuuri that far.

He’d grinded against Otabek in the club, plenty of times, but this was more deliberate, slower. Maybe it was better that he started this way, where he couldn’t see his reaction, because all he heard was a soft groan when the music paused. Confidence building, Yuri kept moving his hips, grinding his ass back against Otabek. He could feel him getting hard again under the attention, and he couldn’t help but feel prideful.

  
Otabek’s hands reached up to grip Yuri’s hips, and Yuri instantly turned, straddling his left thigh, he never stopped moving, his hands roaming freely over Otabek’s chest. It was easy to move his hips back and forth, side to side. The motion was all too familiar, and with the look in Otabek’s eyes, it was clear he was on the same train of thought.

When Yuri slipped his other leg over Otabek’s right hip, resting centered in his lap, the hands on his hips slid down to grip the swell of his ass. Yuri reached back, gripping his wrist and giving his boyfriend a piercing, but no less lust-filled, stare.

“Hands off, Beka.”

Otabek complied, slowly taking his hands away. Without a word, and probably fighting like hell not to smirk, he reached his arm behind his back and pulled his shirt over his head, watching Yuri’s rhythm falter at the new view. When he caught the eyes of a soldier again, Otabek straightened his back, his chest out proudly, and secured his hands behind his back.

  
“Yes sir.”

He said it flatly, almost nonchalantly. Like he didn’t know the effect it had on Yuri.

Of course it had an effect. And that smug bastard had a gleam in his eyes, he knew damn well what he was doing. Yuri wasn’t just going to let him get away with that.

He grabbed Otabeks wrists and pushed him down on the bed until he was laying flat, his wrists pinned to the bed above him and Yuri hovering over him.

“What about my treat?” Otabek feigned innocence, and Yuri nearly growled in annoyance. _Fuck the dance, I can’t take this anymore._

He kissed Otabek, hard and demanding and only for a moment before he was pulling away. He made eye contact with Otabek, lying beneath him, and let Otabek’s wrists fall from his grip. No sooner was Otabek pulling him forward by the hips, lifting him and pushing the black fabric down his knees. Otabek sat up just slightly to get the shorts off from around Yuri’s legs and let them fall to the floor beside the bed, leaving his knee socks on. Yuri carefully pressed his knee against his chest, forcing him to lay back down.

“You want your treat, Beka?” He lilted as he crawled forward, resting his legs folded at the knee on each side of Otabek’s head. He reached down to get a good grip of his hair, watching Otabek’s eyes grow somehow darker with want.

“Take it.” he challenged. He was no less bold or smug than Otabek had been, but he still trembled when he felt that first touch. Otabek’s hand gripped him, spread him, and pulled him forward. At the feeling of the first lick against the sensitive ring of muscle, Yuri gasped, his thighs squeezing Otabek’s head between them. It only encouraged Otabek to hold him tighter, teasing short licks only complementing the more lavish strokes of his tongue.

Yuri could get hard and finish just from being rimmed alone, and with the way his toes were curling and his grip on Otabek’s hair got tighter as the minutes passed, it seemed as if he was on his way.

All of a sudden, just when Yuri was losing the ability to hold himself up without help from Otabek, the sensation he craved was brutally pulled away. Next thing he knew he was on his back, and Otabek was pushing his jeans off his own hips, along with his boxers. Before he could regain control or even composure, Otabek had thrown his long legs over his broad shoulders and was holding Yuri’s hips up to keep him at the correct angle, and looking up expectantly before clarifying his intent .

“Do you want to come like this, котенок?” Beka asked quietly, far too polite for someone who was in his position, gripping Yuri’s thighs with his head between them.

Yuri considered his options in the breaths he took between the pounds of his heart. His head was fuzzy, he wanted to come so badly. He wanted Otabek's cock, but at the same time his tongue just felt so damn good. He was greedy, and honest enough to admit he craved both. That wasn't surprising though, to want all of Otabek at once.

There was something transcendent about feeling loved and desired, adored and lusted after. There was something sacred and filthy about the way Yuri’s senses would flood until all he could feel, smell, hear, taste, and think of was one singular person. It didn't scare him much anymore.

So, he just nodded, his hair falling across his face. He was flushed, hard, and already ready. Once Otabek resumed his previous activity, only with more vigor and soft humming, it didn't take Yuri long to transcend. He came untouched within a span of moments, his own hands gripping Otabek's hair in one and pulling up the sheets with the other.

“мой милый котенок, мой Ангел.” Otabek murmured against his thigh, like it was a private secret reserved for the soft bit of Yuri’s flesh he adored. He nuzzled his nose into the dip of his pale hip as his ribcage drew in and out with recovering gasps.

Yuri didn't let go of the dark hair interwoven between his fingers, even as their owner released his grip on Yuri’s thighs, watching them fall uselessly against the bed. Otabek kissed Yuri’s hips, then his stomach, up to his neck, carefully avoiding the mess that was his own fault.

“Let me ride you.” Yuri whispered in his ear hotly, despite the struggle to keep his eyes fully open.

Otabek chuckled, placing his palm over the younger man’s chest as if to calm him, and probably to stop him from using the last of his energy to pounce, as he was so known to do.

“No, Yura. I won't overwhelm you. Not tonight, at least.” He spoke simply, ever the steady tide to Yuri’s storm. “Lay on my chest.”

Otabek went down on his back, resting his head against his own pillow. Yuri immediately stuck himself to his side, head resting lightly against his left pectoral muscle. His hand was still laced in Otabek’s hair, but his grip softened.

“You're still hard,” Yuri observed without looking down, eyes locked with Otabek’s. “Let me watch.”

It wasn't anything new to request. Yuri had always been a bit of voyeur when it came to Otabek, who wouldn't be with someone so enigmatic? To watch the subtle shifts of his face, slowly sketching outlines of pleasure, and giving just a brief glimpse of himself in complete and unconscious bliss? Yuri became addicted to it all too quickly.

Otabek kept his eyes on Yuri’s face as his hand slid down his side and over the angle of his hip. He wrapped his fingers around his cock, touching himself leisurely at first, teasing the head lightly with his the pad of his thumb. He would get a firmer grip and start pumping and twisting his hand with further purpose in a moment.

Yuri could observe all of this without looking down to actually confirm that was what was happening, of course. He can tell the moment Otabek first touched himself, because his lips would part. He could see the moment he was getting close, because Otabek would furrow his brows just slightly and his eyes would flicker back and forth between Yuri’s pink mouth and his blonde, sex-damp hair.

Eyes still locked, though his were just opened in a small tired curve, he reached his hand down to join in touching Otabek. He let his index finger point out delicately, innocently reaching out and pressing against the wet slit on the head of Otabek’s cock. He was rewarded with a soft gasp, the Kazakh leaning in to where they were staring at each other until their foreheads touched and their lips brushed against each other.

“Можно мне?” He whispered desperately, his low voice flushed with need. It made Yuri proud, almost giddy, that Otabek asked him for permission. The power was a natural high, but of course he never abused it. Why would he, when the result was so pleasing to him?

Smirking, Yuri nodded. “Да, любовь моя.”

Yuri closed his eyes and just felt what was happening. He could feel the tickle of his hair falling in his face, the warm breath of Otabek groaning as he began to fall apart. The steady tide was high, for a moment, beautiful sounds echoing against Yuri’s ears and flooding his brain as he just rode through it with him, one hand ever teasing and one hand ever holding him.

Yuri leaned up and kissed him as he came, feeling the warm release drip between his fingers. Slowly, the tide pulled back, and Otabek hummed in content satisfaction, his head falling back on the pillow and his eyes fluttering open to assess their situation.

He was greeted with an agonizing sight. Yuri was pale and radiant and clinging to his side, a lithe and naked form with his leg tangled between two darker ones. He wasn't looking at Otabek anymore, but rather what he'd collected between his fingers. He widened and closed the gap between his fingers, toying with the spunk that he'd managed to catch. Otabek would make a comment on that being disgusting, if only he had the energy. Instead, he watched uselessly as Yuri brought his fingers up to soft lips, letting the three digits slip into his mouth with ease. He had his eyes closed, fair eyelashes brushing against his cheek. He moaned softly, suckling at his fingers like he was licking Summer honey from them.

_Enjoy it, kitten._

Otabek thought it smugly to himself, but Yuri seemed to read his mind because he opened his eyes to give him a sharp look. Otabek softened him quickly, reaching out to brush his hair back, tucking it behind his ears. Yuri eventually let the fingers fall from his mouth, rushing in to kiss along Otabek’s abdomen and lick up anything he had missed. Otabek lay back, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips, and let his fingers fall easily between the golden strands of Yuri’s hair.

Eventually, he came back to resting at his side, head on his shoulder, pink lips pressed to his own.

They held each other tenderly, like new lovers and old lovers did, and somehow they were both.

They lay there, in the afterglow, talking softly as they drifted between dreaming and being awake.

“Yura,” Otabek murmured, combing his fingers through long blonde hair. It wasn't a question, but Yuri hummed against him regardless.

“I feel cheated,” he continued, tone light and slow, fighting sleep. “Next time, I want the full dance. No distractions.”

Yuri laughed, a tinkling gasp of air, and buried his face into the valley of Otabek’s neck, pressing his lips to what he could reach.

“I'll just have to tie your hands behind your back, then.”

Otabek nodded, kissing the line of soft yellow hair.

“Yes sir.”

Yuri bit his neck in response, but he didn't have the stamina to leave a mark. Resolving he would leave two on the back of Otabek’s thighs in the morning instead, Yuri nestled his head back down against the warm, bare skin of Otabek’s chest. He could hear the soft buzz of the record player, having reached the end of the B side a long time ago and spinning on nothing, waiting to be turned over. It would have to wait until morning, when Otabek got out of bed first to make their cup of coffee.

But first, sleep.

Yuri listened to the soft sound of their breath, his head rising and falling where it lay on Otabek’s chest. He waited, eyes closed, for sleep to come. It was in that state of rest that he usually muttered something soppy that he would roll his eyes at in the light of day, and that night was not immune.

“Hey, Beka?” He called softly, questioning if the other was even still conscious. Maybe if he wasn't, Yuri could avoid the gushing sentiment for one night.

“Hmm?” Otabek hummed in response, defiantly awake.

Yuri bit his lip, tried to fit himself impossibly closer against the body next to him. Sometimes he wished they could blend together like paint. Sometimes it felt like they already had.

“I'm just really glad to be living this life with you.”

It was the most self-indulgently sentimental thing that could fall from his lips, and he meant it. The bitch of living somehow became a lighter burden when he had Otabek by his side. They shared all of it; the lust, the love, the pain, the magic. It somehow all fit into the atmosphere of them.

Yuri wasn't sure if he believed in past lives, or that when they died they would meet again in another life. It was enough, more than enough, to live the life he was living at that very moment. He was present, and incredibly grateful even after all he had endured, and unchangeably in love.

“Yura, любовь моя, one lifetime with you won't be enough for me, I'm afraid. I'm too selfish.”

Hiding his smile, Yuri yawned sleepily behind the palm of his hand.

“We’ll figure it out at the gate, then.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Soppy Russian word guide: 
> 
> котенок - kitten  
> мой милый котенок, мой Ангел - my little kitten, my angel  
> Можно мне - Can I (come)?  
> Да, любовь моя - yes, my love  
> любовь моя - my love
> 
> As always, comments are super important and 100% loved and appreciated. Even if you just leave " eep !!" I will be happy. Thank you x 
> 
> (Ps- come say hi on tumblr @onotherflights)


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